


don't look away, these are the days (you've gotta believe me)

by KHart



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: All The Love, F/F, Fluff, they're super soft and they love one another a lot and the LWS match was just a lot ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 07:11:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KHart/pseuds/KHart
Summary: “I’m supposed to be the crier,” is what Charlotte says upon first seeing Becky backstage after their match, in one of the hallways of the arena.Or, really, it’s what she tries to say...She's only able to get most of it out before Becky’s pulling her in and holding her close.And, of course, she doesn’t even try to fight the embrace, despite how horribly her arms and back are aching and smarting at random intervals and all at once.Because, after all, she needs the hug too.---Or: Becky and Charlotte after the Last Woman Standing Match at Evolution





	don't look away, these are the days (you've gotta believe me)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song "Oasis" by A Great Big World.
> 
> My Tumblr is Flairfatale.

“I’m supposed to be the crier,” is what Charlotte says upon first seeing Becky backstage after their match, in one of the hallways of the arena.

Or, really, it’s what she tries to say... 

She's only able to get most of it out before Becky’s pulling her in and holding her close.

And, of course, she doesn’t even try to fight the embrace, despite how horribly her arms and back are aching and smarting at random intervals and all at once.

Because, after all, she needs the hug too.

But Becky doesn’t say anything in response to the tease; She just lets out another weak sob that has Charlotte’s arms curling protectively around her shoulders and thinking that, maybe, for once, she isn’t the one that needs the contact more.

So, “It’s okay, baby,” is what she she soothes gently, fingers light at the nape of Becky’s neck. “We did it. We’re okay.”

Becky nods some, to acknowledge her statement, and she takes a minute or two to collect herself. When she starts to pull back, after the initial, desperate need to have Charlotte in her arms eases just a little, Charlotte follows suit.

She tilts her head slightly.

“You did amazing, champ,” she whispers. “I couldn’t be prouder of you if I tried.” A faint smirk. “Thanks for catching me.”

“You were spectacular out there,” Becky breathes out her first words, with a shake of her head, her eyes tired but glinting. “You oversold and overacheived, and you were _perfect_.”

Charlotte lets out a soft chuckle, reaching up to thumb at a smudge of makeup on Becky’s cheek.

“Not completely perfect though,” she admits. “I’m sorry I botched the first table attempt. I had to improvise. Are you alright?”

Becky swallows with some difficulty. Her head bobs up and down. Concern flickers across her face, like it had been briefly forgotten but is suddenly found.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Char. Of course, _I'm_ fine. Are _you_ alright?”

Charlotte hesitates some. She finds she can’t answer with as much certainty as Becky, and she knows that even if she did, Becky would see right through her. 

So, she kind of shrugs, just barely.

“I’m in pain, of course. But it’s nothing I can’t walk or ice off, love. We planned it this way because I've got a high pain tolerance, after all.”

Becky’s eyes search her face for any signs of understatement or deception, and Charlotte’s not sure what they find particularly, but Becky says “Turn around,” in the next moment, quietly and like it’s something she needs. “Let me see your back.”

Charlotte sighs lightly.

“Becks, I'm _okay_. Really. I pinky promise.”

Becky bites down on her bottom lip.

“I know, but, just—please, Charlie? I just—I need...”

Charlotte lifts her hands, in an attempt to get Becky to pause.

“Okay, honey, alright, you’ve got it. Just breathe.”

She pivots on her heel smoothly, wasting no more time, because she doesn’t want Becky to start crying again.

Becky’s inhale and subsequent exhale are a little shaky behind her as she finally takes time to actually look at the damage she’d done. 

Charlotte can feel her hand hovering over the various marks and welts on her skin, wanting to soothe but scared to touch. A few moments pass, where Becky’s hesitance is still very palpable, and then she places her palm delicately on Charlotte’s right hip, very intentional in its positioning atop unbruised territory.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have let me go through with a lot of it.”

Charlotte scoffs, but she doesn’t turn around, because she knows Becky doesn’t need her to in the moment. 

“Are you kidding, Becks? We just made _history_. Hell, we just gave them the match of the year. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Honestly, we probably could’ve done more, but they just wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

“And you would have?”

Another scoff.

“Who are you talking to?” Charlotte asks, incredulous but still light. “Of course I would have. I have a good forty percent left in the tank. Do you wanna go out there and upstage the main event again? Start the eight horsewoman feud early?”

Becky lets out a low chuckle, and the slight worry that had been building in Charlotte’s stomach eases away a little because she had been aiming for some form of a laugh.

“No, lass, that’s okay. I believe you.” Becky takes a small step closer. “We both earned a good rest, I think.”

Charlotte hums.

“I think you’re right.”

She still stands with her back to Becky, because she knows that Becky doesn’t need to see her eyes right now, when she’s still trying to digest the extremities with which Charlotte’s body endured pain.

She does extend her left arm down some, though, flexing her fingers as a signal that Becky reads easily, prompting her to come closer again and grab her hand gently. Her grip is tight as she lets out another long breath and then rests her forehead on the area right below the back of Charlotte’s neck. 

Charlotte holds it back with just as much strength.

They stand together for a bit in silence, and, at some point, Becky shifts her right arm so that it’s wrapped more fully around Charlotte’s waist. She eventually lifts her head so that she can start to brush featherlight kisses across the bruises and welts marring Charlotte’s back. 

“You’re a superstar, you know,” she eventually whispers, against the peak of Charlotte’s left shoulder.

Charlotte squeezes the hand that she’s holding, as she also brings her other one down to cover the fingers resting against her stomach. 

“You’re the champ,” she replies, fond and warm. “The epitome of Evolution if anyone’s ever seen it.”

Becky breathes out a laugh into her skin.

“We made history together,” she says, sounding awed. “Stole the show.”

“We sure did.”

“We were electric.”

“Just like always.”

“And we’re okay.”

Charlotte smiles. 

“Yeah, we’re doing alright.” 

Becky’s grip loosens on her just a little, and that’s her indicator that it’s okay for her to turn around again. So, as soon as she can, she’s got her arms wrapped around the other woman once more, holding her firmly to her and, arguably, together. 

Becky rests her ear against Charlotte’s chest, in turn, and Charlotte knows it’s because she needs to hear her heartbeat, to have the steadiness of its rhythm and the solidness of its sound to ground her. So, she takes in a deep breath of air, to get it to slow some, despite the lingering remnants of adrenaline still in her veins. 

More time passes, too much and not enough all at once, and Charlotte knows that they’re going to have to separate soon, as Becky’s got promos to film and they’ve both got to go out to end the show with the rest of the women. But she refuses to be the first one to pull away. Because if Becky needs her to hold on, then she will. And it isn’t until Becky’s ready that she’ll let go. 

The grip around her tightens, as if somehow Charlotte’s thoughts of the end of the embrace caused a reaction. Charlotte strokes her hand up and down Becky’s back. She’s not going anywhere.

“I love you.”

Charlotte lifts her head from where she had been resting her cheek against the top of Becky’s own. She presses one, two, three kisses against the line of Becky’s hair. A kiss on Becky’s eyebrow. Her cheekbone.

“I love _you_ ,” she whispers back. 

Now Becky is finally looking at her again, so Charlotte grins on instinct, because she can’t help it and because she wants Becky to smile too. 

And it’s only a second or two before her goal is accomplished and Becky’s lips are tilting up a little... 

But then it’s ruined in the next one because a voice comes from the side.

“Hey, ladies.”

Becky’s face shifts as they both glance towards the producer. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’ve both got appearances to make.”

Charlotte nods at the words and bites back a sigh. She waits until Becky’s arms drop from around her before relaxing her own. 

“I’ll see you after, Champ,” she says, with a lingering touch to Becky’s jaw, the recovering side. “Right?”

Becky nods.

“Yep. You can _count_ _on_ _it_ , Queen. Even to ten, if you wish.”

Charlotte rolls her eyes.

“Ha, ha,” she deadpans. “Go do your job, will you?”

Becky sends her a wry grin, more like herself again, and then she’s following the producer to wherever she’s set to film her promos and interviews, championship belt reacquired and in hand. 

Charlotte waits until she’s completely out of sight before deflating some. 

With Becky’s touch and presence gone, she feels unsteady again, as unsteady as she felt when she was looking for the woman backstage. In both the emotional _and_ the literal sense. 

Her legs feel a little weak, a little tired of supporting her and keeping her standing, and she is suddenly very overwhelmed with the urge to sit or lie down right in the middle of the hallway.

Luckily, some company comes to assist her. 

“Ready to go, Charlotte?” 

Charlotte turns around at Asuka’s question. She smiles.

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “Yeah, let’s go. We deserve a curtain call.”

Asuka flashes her with her own brand of a beaming grin, and she moves to wrap an arm around Charlotte’s waist as they begin to walk back towards gorilla. 

They pass a lot of their colleagues and friends on the way, ones that have already congratulated Charlotte and sent her proud expressions, and Charlotte feels that buzzing sense of contentment at seeing all of them together, doing what was never thought to be possible. 

They make a quick pitstop in the locker room, so Charlotte can wash her face, remove her ruined makeup, and put on a shirt over her beaten-looking torso, and then they go join everyone else.

As they all stand and wait for their cue to walk out onto the stage, Natalya comes up to join she and Asuka, hugging her from the other side and allowing her to lean even more of her weight on another person.

She’s infinitely grateful that she didn't even have to ask them for their support. 

Having the crowd out there cheering for all of them, so invested and enthusiastic about the show they just performed, is a wonderful feeling. And, though Charlotte doesn’t get to stand in the center with Becky to celebrate the real main event they put on, and though she doesn’t get to be the one to situate her arm over Becky’s shoulders, she still lifts her hands up over her head to clap, because nothing can dim the happiness and pride in her veins. 

Becky catches her eye for just a second, as Charlotte re-situates her arms on top of Asuka and Natalya’s shoulders, and Charlotte doesn’t even attempt to lessen the wideness of her smile. 

‘ _That’s my girl_ ,’ she thinks. ‘ _My champ._ ’

And, later on, when they're at the hotel together, with Charlotte lying on her stomach on Becky’s hotel bed, her shirt sitting off to the side and a variety of ice packs laid across her back, over her sports bra, she finds herself looking over at Becky again, in much the same way.

Her makeup is gone now. Her hair is freshly washed and falling around her face in damp, orange waves. Her features are soft and calm as she reads aloud, the increasing number of articles about how fully they had both blown the match out of the water. Her fingers are careful as they drag lightly through the strands of Charlotte’s hair, across her scalp. 

She’s got no trace of the champ on her in the moment, and Charlotte’s grateful for that, because this Becky, her Becky, is the one she most loves to see. The permanent snarl, the crease of the eyebrows, the dark look in her eyes, it’s all a facade for the shows, but Charlotte still finds herself relieved whenever it melts away at the end of the day. 

Charlotte still finds that she can somehow love Becky more and more with each passing day, and the feud has only solidified how wholly the other woman is a part of her: one that she can’t lose. 

So, as she blinks sleepily at Becky beside her, she smiles, soft and slow, and whispers a quiet, “I love you.” 

Becky stops reading whatever sentence she had been on, about two pages past the point where Charlotte was last paying attention, and she brings her gaze down to meet Charlotte’s own. 

And the look in her eyes, so different from the one Charlotte gets in public, is so melted and vulnerable, swirling and earnest, that Charlotte feels even more breathless than she did when she went through the final table. 

She tilts her head more against her pillow, into Becky’s hand. 

“Just thought you should know.”

Becky’s expression is tender, touched and like she can’t really believe she’s got what she has. She locks her phone and sets it on the nightstand beside her. 

“Oh, yeah?” she says faintly, reaching over with her suddenly free hand to move some stray hair from Charlotte’s forehead. “You wanna know what I think?”

Charlotte hums in response.

“Yeah.”

Becky smiles.

“I think that I won the day you chose me.” Her eyes shine. “I think I’ve won every day since then, even when I've lost. I think that it doesn’t matter what I have or haven’t got, as long as I’ve got _you_.” Her thumb sweeps across Charlotte’s cheekbone. “That’s what I think. And that’s what I hope you know, always.”

Charlotte sniffs, feeling that familiar burn of tears spring to life. 

“How dare you say something like that when I’m not able to hug you.”

Becky chuckles lightly, the most effective thing to send shivers down Charlotte’s spine—far more effective than any amount of ice packs could ever be.

She leans down to brush a kiss across Charlotte’s lips.

“How about ‘I love you too?’ Is that better?” 

“Only a little,” Charlotte pouts, before shrugging as best as she can. “S’okay though. We all know I’m the crier. Just because we switched places for the night doesn’t make that fact go away.”

Becky laughs once again, and Charlotte really needs a blanket or something, the ice packs are getting too cold. Becky notices her second shiver, and starts to remove them from her back.

“This is true,” she says. “They were hard shoes to fill for the time being, I'll give you that, at least.”

“That’s because your feet are small.”

Becky makes an offended noise.

“Or maybe your feet are just big.”

“Well, you know what they say about big feet.”

“I’m not sure that applies to this situation, love.”

“No?”

The last of the icepacks is set to the side, and Charlotte uses her newfound freedom to shift herself to finally snuggle into Becky, who is situated against the headboard of the bed. Warm hands come down on her cold skin, and she feels goosebumps rise up across her body. 

Becky huffs out an amused breath, in lieu of finding a response. 

“You’re ridiculous,” she concludes next. “You know that? You’re a  _ridiculous_ , _reckless_ , _amazing_ blonde boulder.” She tightens her grip subtly, still highly aware of how sensitive Charlotte’s muscles are. “A terminator and a warrior.” She drops a kiss to Charlotte’s head. “The Queen.” Charlotte presses her nose into Becky’s pulse point. “My queen.” Charlotte’s fingers find their way underneath the fabric of Becky’s shirt, wanting more skin on skin contact. “My love and my life.” The sincerity in her voice thickens. “I couldn’t do any of this without you, and I wouldn’t want to. You know that.”

Charlotte swallows.

“Yeah, Becks, I know. I wouldn’t be able to do this without you either. I could never want to. Could never even think about it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’ll never have to. ‘Cause I'm afraid you’re stuck with me for as long as you live, lass.”

“Well, you know my only fear is spiders. So, I think I'm okay with it.”

“You think?”

“I _know_.”

“You promise?”

Charlotte lifts her arm up from its position. She extends her pinky out.

“With my pinky.”

Becky grins. 

She links her little finger around Charlotte’s own, and she doesn’t let go.

Charlotte knows she never will.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> My tumblr is Flairfatale :)


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